A Supernatural One Shot Extravaganza!
by Elizabeth Rosalind Silverthorn
Summary: This is a collection of one shots involving the Winchesters (primarily Dean) that I have adapted from my Tumblr account. I have to use OCs in here, so I went back to our friends from I'm Yours.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So hi. It has been quite a while. But here I am with this little beauty. I'm just kidding. Just for reference, Hana is always my OC paired with Dean, Ally is always the Winchester's sister, and if you want to PM me with requests, I will be more than happy to oblige if I have knowledge of the fandom.

My Little Cinnamon Roll

Warnings: One suggestive comment, teensy bit of swearing

Hana's POV

"Yay!" I cheered, running a bit ahead of Dean and Sam. They wore nearly identical grins as they chuckled at me. I ignored their amused gazes and charged into the bakery.  
The door was closed and I was halfway to the counter before the two bums caught up.  
Dean rolled his eyes at my hopeful perk up, but I could see him fighting back a smile.  
I pranced happily to the register. A pleasant-looking older woman was behind the counter. She seemed to be uplifted by my childlike demeanor. "What can I help you with?"  
Dean's hands on my waist made me jump, but I couldn't find it in myself to be mad at him. Not when I was surrounded by all these glorious treats.  
"We'll take a half dozen donuts to go," Dean stated politely, but shortly all the same. I frowned.  
"And a cinnamon roll for here!" I piped up, meeting Dean's confused and somewhat pissed face with a happy-go-lucky grin.  
The woman's mouth twitched at the corners. "Alright. That'll be… $6.73." Dean grabbed his wallet and swiped his frauded credit card.  
He obviously wasn't happy with me for butting in and making this longer than it needed to be, but I didn't truly care.  
As we sat, Sam squirmed in discomfort. He clearly did not want to be in the middle of Dean and I's inevitable spat, so I suggested, "Hey, Sam. I heard that there's a new gym that just opened down the street. Why don't you go check it out? This might take a while."  
He nodded gratefully and took off. His footsteps had faded by the time the door swung closed.  
I edged a bit closer to Dean and set my head on his shoulder. He kept his eyes forward, bitchface on full force as he ignored me.  
I pouted. "C'mon, you can't really be all that mad. The cinnamon rolls here are amazing!"  
A smirk started to stretch over Dean's face. He tried to fight it, but with a little nuzzle of my nose right under his jaw, he gave in.  
"Fine. But, you know, they're not the best."  
I tilted my head to the side in confusion, like a dog might. "What do you mean, you meanie? You can't do any better!" I smacked his arm lightly.  
A deep chuckle spilled from his mouth. Before I knew what was happening, I was in his arms, his brightening cheek right against mine. "I love you, Hana," he laughed.  
I bit my lip slightly. Dean was a man of few words. He usually showed his feelings through actions, not eloquent speeches.  
"I love you, too," I giggled back, the scruff from his stubble tickling me just a bit.  
We sat there, wrapped in each other's embrace, until the woman walked up with our order. We proceeded to break apart and scooch away from each other as if we were a couple of teenagers caught making out by their parents. She smiled at us with the look that older people give young couples, said, "Enjoy, you two," and walked off.  
Dean tried to get comfy again, but I was busy stuffing my face with the still-warm cinnamon roll. I moaned and closed my eyes as the taste hit my tongue.  
"God, babe, don't do that in public."  
I laughed loudly at Dean's request, only to cover my mouth with my hand as I realized there was still chewed food that was surely not flattering.  
Dean's smile was back on his face. He leaned in, kissed my ear lobe gingerly, and whispered, "You're my cute little cinnamon roll."  
"Just cute?"  
"Fine. You're super sexy."  
I laughed. "That's more like it, tough guy."


	2. Chapter 2

Insufferably Tall

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, fighting, it's a given that you're shorter than Dean

Hana's POV

I collapsed on the couch as soon as my legs had carried me into the bunker.

It was a long hunt, and Dean had to go and be the hero. Again.

I was getting tired of saving his ungrateful ass.

Speaking of the devil.

Dean strode in with two beers already in hand. He motioned for me to move my feet, and I silently obeyed.

I cast my gaze toward the dormant TV and waited patiently for it to turn on. Except it didn't. Instead, I felt Dean shaking my leg slightly. I sat up to look at him. But I wasn't really looking at him. No, I was too mad to do that.

"What is up with you?" he asked, taking a lengthy swig from his beer.

I huffed and crossed my arms, glaring at him. "You throw yourself into danger all the time!"

His eyebrow furrowed. "Hana, that's kind of in the job description." I shifted and was contemplating getting up. He just wasn't hearing me out. But he put a hand on my leg. "What's wrong?"

My anger and frustration poured out through my words. "Dean, when does it end? No, I'm not talking about hunting. I'm talking about the constant need to be careless. If you were any normal person, you would be dead by now! And you have died! And I feel like I care about you more than you do! Hell, you always just hunt like it's your last one!"

Dean was completely quiet for a moment, and I thought he was going to scoff, get up, and walk out. But then he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tight to his body. I breathed and snuggled into the embrace. "Hana, it's cute that you try to protect me and all, but you're like a foot shorter than me, you know?"

I smacked his arm as he chuckled at his own joke.

A smile was edging its way onto my face, but I forced it into a frown. "That wasn't funny."

"C'mon, it was a little funny."

The grin was so insistent that it hurt to hold it back.

I forced out an irritated huff and brushed him off, standing. Before he could pull me back down, I was running away, giggling.

"Hana! C'mon," he grumbled, his pace a lot slower than mine. "We just got back. How do you even have energy for this?"

I bit my lip. "I may or may not have borrowed your credit card to buy a coffee."

He was right on my heels, then. I squealed and tried to run faster, but he kept pace with me. I could only go so fast with my short legs, I thought ruefully to myself.

A scream followed by bubbly laughter flowed out of my mouth as Dean finally caught up with me, grabbing me roughly from behind by the waist and pulling me back into his chest.

"Gotcha," he murmured in my ear. "Shorty."

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at the crude nickname. "Giant."

"Sam's taller than I am."

"Shut up."

His chest rumbled as he laughed. "Who're you telling to shut up, shorty?"

I squirmed and then huffed as I found myself crushed and stuck.

"You," I said matter-of-factly, affection seeping through the sarcastic words.

He chuckled and nuzzled my neck. "You."


	3. Chapter 3

Denim

Warnings: Suggestive comment, minimal swearing

Dean's POV

Trying to suppress the yawn that I desperately wanted to indulge in, I took a mouthful of room-temperature coffee. I winced as it went down my throat, feeling slimy and unrefreshing. Rubbing at my exhausted eyes, I turned back to the book in front of me.  
Let me tell you, as much as I enjoy alone time with Hana, doing research for Sam without a laptop was drop dead boring. My considerate asshole of a brother decided to go on a solo hunt in Massachusetts to give me and Hana time alone together. Except he ruined his own plan by asking us to do a hell of a lot of research. The problem? We didn't have a laptop. And so we had to hit the books. I'd told Hana that I would rather shoot them. She hadn't been amused.  
As Hana swirled through my mind, a smile edged its way onto my face. We can be done for tonight. At least, with the research. I stopped my thoughts right there. She's probably too tired. She probably just wanted to go to sleep. She probably had no interest in rocking the bed… Right?  
I looked up, my mouth opening to speak, and then forming into a goofy smile as I caught sight of her.  
Hana was slumped over in her seat, using the open lore book as a pillow. Her legs were tucked under her on the chair. Her hair was spread over the table. And she was fast asleep, her breathing soft and even.  
Forcing the more mischievous thoughts out of my head, I stood and walked around the table. I wrapped my fingers around the cup of hot chocolate loosely hanging in her hand and eased it gently away. She frowned a bit, making me pause, but then sighed and relaxed again. I let out a tiny puff of relief. Hana deserved this kind of sleep. Our sleep was usually restless and plagued by nightmares, but she seemed peaceful this time.  
Crouching beside her form, I slipped my arms around her and lifted, settling her into my arms. Immediately, Hana was burrowing into my chest. "I've gotcha, princess," I murmured into her hair. "Go back to sleep."  
With a barely perceptible nod, she drifted off again.  
I tried to keep my footsteps light and my breathing steady as I slowly carried Hana to our room. To my shock, she didn't even stir as I lowered her to the mattress and tucked the blanket around her.  
I considered going back to research, but Hana's whine stopped me. "Don't leave me." Smiling, I toed off my boots and crawled into bed next to her. My arms encircled her almost instinctively, pulling her into my chest.  
We lay there for a while, me thinking and her sleeping, before she turned and huffed. "Dean, take off your pants. The denim is scratchy," she complained. Snorting at her blunt request, I wrestled off my jeans and threw them out of the covers. They landed with a plop on the floor.  
Hana immediately wrapped herself around me, burying her face into my collarbone and sighing contentedly. I chuckled. "Better?"  
I could feel her smile as she tugged me closer. "Definitely."


	4. Chapter 4

Pick Up Lines 101

Warnings: Implied sexy times, swearing, REALLY bad pick up lines

Hana's POV

Dean rolled to the side, panting heavily and running a hand through his mussed up hair. As soon as I had caught my breath, I cuddled into his side, not bothered the slightest by his sweat-soaked skin. Resting my head on his bicep, I blinked up at his face. "That was fun," I whispered with a mischievous smile.  
With a short laugh, Dean reached behind me to wrap an arm around my shoulders. "Damn right. We should have a date night tonight. You know, since Sam probably cleared out anyway." he offered me a wink, which I accepted with a blush and lighthearted smack on his arm.  
Date night. Yeah, right. They always ended up in more sex, since Dean and I had been together so long, and we knew pretty much everything about each other. Nevertheless, I decided to give him a chance to make a fool out of himself before I rejected it. "You're gonna have to do a lot more than just ask to charm me, Winchester."  
He held me at arm's length, confused expression on his face. His mouth opened and closed multiple times, and I knew that I had him. My hope dropped like a brick as Dean kind of smirked. "Alright, princess." He cleared his throat and lowered his voice even further. "Hey, baby. Wanna sit on my lap and we'll talk about the first thing that pops up?"  
It was my turn to pull away, this time shocked. "Excuse me, what?"  
Dean pressed on, smug grin implanted on his face. "You look great and all, but do you know what really looks good on you? Me."  
This time, I snorted and covered my face in my hands. "Dean, shut up."  
"Do you like bacon? Wanna strip?"  
That one earned him a smack to the back of the head. "Oh my god, Dean, I'm already naked, you idiot."  
But it didn't seem to deter him at all. "As long as I have a face, you'll have a place to sit."  
"Dean!"  
"I may not be Fred Flintstone, but I bet I can make your bed rock."  
Finally, embarrassed and knowing that I was as bright as a tomato, I gave in. "Okay, okay! I'll have a date night with you! The way you flirt is shameful…" He laughed and tugged me back towards him, chin resting on top of my head.  
Pressing a kiss to my hair, he muttered, "Movie or training room?" I hummed and cuddled further into his embrace, closing my eyes. "Don't make me start up those puns again," he teased, moving my shoulder a bit.  
I sighed dramatically and raised my head from his collarbone to meet his eyes. "Movie. Can we please take a nap now? I'm exhausted."  
The smug smirk on his face made me bury my face back into the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "Good night, sweetheart," he whispered.  
"G' night," I mumbled back as he pulled the covers up to my chin.


	5. Chapter 5

Ragtime Blues

Warnings: Swearing, sickness

Hana's POV

Closing my eyes, I let my head gently tilt against the wall, brows furrowing. I would kill to get some connection to the outside world in here. Maybe a window at the very least. In my head, I had already cursed the Men of Letters enough times to make them roll over in their graves. They apparently couldn't afford to put a single window in any of the bedrooms. How did they even survive in this super secret bunker?

Ever since I'd told Dean that I had a cold, he wouldn't let me go outside. Not even for a breath of fresh air. In fact, I wasn't even allowed in the library or main control room, since if the door opened, a rush of cold air would come in and apparently kill me.

Which reminds me why I never tell Dean when I'm feeling crappy. It happened almost exactly like this every time.

Being cuddled up in blankets and having Dean running around getting me whatever I wanted always does seem like a plus. That is, until I felt like I was getting suffocated by both. I never got five freaking minutes to myself, because my stupid boyfriend kept peeking his head in.

"Why is there nothing to do?" I groaned to the empty room, throwing an arm over my eyes. A sigh left my parted lips as I felt the heat radiating from my forehead. Still with the damn fever. I really couldn't get a break, no matter how much medication I took.

A knock at the door frame didn't even make me look up. I heard his footsteps from a mile away. I could recognize the arrogant strut anywhere. "I brought you something," Dean whispered into the stuffy room.

Risking a peek out from my forearm, I rasped back, "Unless it's a door outside, I'm not interested." It was too dark to see what he was carrying, but I honestly didn't care since it obviously wasn't what I was asking for. Only getting more pissed that I just HAD to cough at that moment, I threw the blankets over my head.

The bed sunk a bit at the bottom, then arms wrapped themselves around me. "Hana. C'mon, don't be mad at me. I just want to make sure that you get better."

I tried to wriggle out of his grasp, but only succeeded in entangling myself in the sheets more. "Get off of me!" I finally whined, going limp as I accepted my fate.

To my great surprise, he did as I asked. The two thumps of his feet hitting the floor distracted me from the task at hand. I poked my head out from the blanket bundle, hair sticking up everywhere and a suspicious glint in my eyes. His back was turned to me, but he was clearly doing something, because I could see his hands moving even in the darkness. Dean's green eyes met my blue ones gingerly. "I have something that might make you feel better. Sit there for just a second." I rolled my eyes, because that's really all I had been doing for the past few days, but obeyed him nonetheless.

There was a kind of squeaking sound from by Dean. I made a face at his back. What in the hell is he doing…? My question was answered as a swing tune filled the air. The attempt at keeping the smile off of my face was all in vain as Dean smirked and held his hand out to me. "Wanna dance?" he questioned softly, looking me directly in the eyes and bowing down just slightly.

As much as I tried to convince myself that I was still mad at him, the blush continuously deepened on my cheeks. Before I could even think through it, my mouth blurted out, "Sure." I mentally stuck a foot in my mouth. Freaking traitor. And it just kept going, blatantly ignoring my mind yelling at it to stop. "As long as you get me out of these blankets. I may or may not be stuck." Dean laughed and started towards me. His strong, calloused hands wrapped securely around my waist and he yanked me up, successfully freeing me from the blanket prison.

I didn't even have time to register how mouthwateringly muscular he was to have pulled that off, because my feet were already on the floor and his arms had settled themselves more gently at my waist.

Knowing that I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up that Dean would do anything other than gently rock us back and forth, my jaw nearly hit the floor when he started dancing along to the upbeat rhythm, leading me around the room by the hands. He let go of one of my hands to spin me, then chuckled as I spun him, too.

I lost track of time as we spun, skipped, and danced our way through countless swing tunes, giggling the entire time and landing a peck on the other's cheek or lips every once in a great while. It wasn't until halfway through a particularly lively song that I was hit with the bout of dizziness. Drunk off of excitement, I cackled as my legs went weak beneath me. Dean lunged forward just in time to grab me before I hit the floor. "Woah, hey, princess. You alright?" The concern in his voice made me tilt my head to the side. I felt fine. I felt like I was on cloud nine, at the top of my game. Why was he so serious all of a sudden? I tried to brush off Dean's hand as he brought it up to feel my forehead, but he lightly smacked my hand away and it fell back to my side. "Holy shit. You're burning up. Let's get you back in bed."

Even as he leaned down to sweep my legs out from under me, I could feel myself losing balance, drooping tiredly. I cuddled into his chest, and let out a weak protest as he tried to leave. "Nome. Don' leaf me," I mumbled, tugging at his hand.

His lips pressed to my forehead. "I'll be right back, I promise. Try to stay up, you need to take some medicine." And then, he was gone.

Really, the next thing I remember was waking up, apparently a day later. Dean was right beside me, of course, and he felt terrible for exhausting me. He'd even made me a bowl of my favorite soup from scratch to make up for it. I hadn't really been hungry, but I ate it anyway. And that was unfortunately part of his plan to get me to shut up while he apologized over and over again. I silenced him by putting a hand on his cheek, setting the empty bowl aside.

"It's alright, babe. I promise. You don't need to feel guilty. After all, you were just trying to make me feel better," I assured, gradually moving my hand into his hair and running my fingers through it repeatedly, a method proven to work at calming him down in the past.

Dean smiled up at me as he set his head gently on my chest. "How the hell did God rope me a girl as perfect as you?"

Fighting down the blush, I whispered back, "I love you, Dean. And match made in heaven or not, I always will. Now, get up here. I'm freezing and I want to get you sick."

He laughed back, then rolled over me to get to the side of the bed I wasn't occupying and pulled me into his side. "I love you, too, baby girl."


	6. Chapter 6

Confession of a Winchester

Warnings: So much swearing, blood, fighting, sneaking around

Ally's POV

I wiped at blood on my face with my sleeve, only succeeding in smearing it. Werewolves are always a problem, especially when they're trying to kill you.  
To be fair, I did go into their house guns blazing, fully intent on all of those sons of bitches.  
I winced as I climbed into the front seat of the Impala, my shoulder catching on the seat.  
Sam and Dean are gonna be pissed.  
I'd wrenched my shoulder. Badly. The first time I'd hurt myself to the point of excruciating pain. And now, I had to ask my brothers for help.  
I haven't been able to work up the courage to reset it myself, and I knew I wouldn't ever.  
I'd been hiding my nightly hunting adventures from my brothers for a long time now. Almost eight months. l would sneak out as soon as they'd fallen asleep, take care of small hunts, and be back in my bed by the time the sun came up. I guess that was all for nothing.  
Sighing, I put the keys in the ignition and twisted them.  
I swallowed thickly.  
Maybe if I woke them up to help me and sent them straight back to bed, they would think it was a dream…  
Not likely.  
The entire drive back to the motel room, I was tense. My fingers gripped the steering wheel so hard, I felt bad for Baby.  
Well, I felt worse for myself honestly.  
I swallowed hard as I shut off the car, in front of the motel room.  
Fear immediately struck through me.  
Sure, Dean and Sam would be temporarily distracted by my wounds. And then the questions would start. The fight would undoubtedly come afterwards.  
Taking one last deep breath, I hauled myself out of the Impala and dragged my feet as I trudged to the door. Before I could mentally talk myself out of it, I turned the knob and pushed the door open.  
Both of my brothers were sleeping, as per usual.  
Maybe I could just clean myself up. Say I fell out of bed and whacked my shoulder or something.  
That idea flew out the window as Dean's snores faltered and he shot upright in bed, hair askew.  
Swallowing down my indecision, I slowly crossed over to him as he rested his head in his hands. "Hey, Dean," I whispered, my voice shaking.  
He jumped a bit, then squinted up at me through the darkness.  
Shit. The blood. I'd completely forgot.  
Dean noticed it a millisecond after I did. His hand reached over to shake Sam from sleep. "Sammy, wake up!" he hissed, floundering to turn the light on. "Ally got hurt! Get your ass up!" He sprung off the bed to examine my face in between his hands. "Oh, God, Ally. What the hell were you doing? You're covered in blood! Sam, get the goddamn alcohol."  
Finally finding my voice again, I sputtered out, "Not… My… Blood."  
Dean pushed me by the shoulders to sit on the bed. I immediately crumpled, gasping out and scrunching my face up in pain. Dean's hands grabbed me by the waist to keep me standing.  
"Hey, I've gotcha. I've gotcha. What hurts?"  
Thankful for the simple questions, I squeaked out, "Shoulder. I-I think it's dislocated."  
I heard Sam swear as he looked closely at my busted shoulder. "That's dislocated, all right. I'm not gonna lie, this is gonna hurt like hell." He sounded guilty, and I figured out what he was thinking just as he popped my shoulder back into place.  
I cried out, pain flaring in the joint, then calming to a dull ache. "Thanks," I winced, rubbing it softly.  
Sam put an arm around me, fingers gently working at the knots in my shoulder blade. I cast a grateful glance up at him.  
"Now that we've had our dramatic moment, how about we all sit down for a family meeting so Ally can tell us what the hell is going on!" I cringed at Dean's rough, loud voice, booming through the flimsy motel room walls.  
Sam swallowed and slowly sat on the bed opposite mine, Dean too restless to stop pacing.  
Steadying myself, I forced out, "It was a werewolf."  
And Dean proceeded to flip his shit. "A werewolf? What the hell were you doing around a werewolf?! You could've been seriously hurt, Ally! You know that! Why didn't you just let us take care of it?!"  
I fought down my tears and stood, hands clenched into fists at my sides. "Because, Dean, I hate being holed up in here all the time! You barely ever let me go out to get groceries! That's not freedom, that's a chore. You and Sammy, you guys get to make a difference. You carry on what dad wanted us to do. I'm just as trained as you are, Dean. Yet I'm cast aside like I'm made of glass!" I snapped, having to calm my breathing as I cooled down from my pent-up rant.  
Dean had stopped pacing, now staring at me in shock. Sam mirrored his expression. "How long have you been doing this? Sneaking out, taking care of hunts like this?"  
I carefully averted my eyes to the floor. "Just short of eight months. It hasn't been anything too big!" I defended as Dean opened his mouth. "Just small groups or rogues, I swear. I just… I love hunting. It's in my blood. I'm a Winchester." My tone softened as I finished my explanation.  
"Eight months? Holy shit, Ally, don't you ever do something like this again, okay? We'll take you with on hunts. I won't bench you, I promise. But you depriving yourself sleep? That's not the answer. You should've just come to us about it."  
I nodded up into Dean's sincere eyes. "Okay. I promise I won't keep anything from you again."  
That signature smirk was edging onto Dean's face, and I knew that he was about to make a crude comment. "So, who'd you lose your virginity to?"  
I groaned loudly and smacked his arm, pouting as he laughed.  
"C'mon, let's see what's on TV."  
"Dean?"  
"Yes?"  
"Need I remind you that it's 2 o'clock in the fucking morning?"  
Dean cast a surprised look to the clock, then moaned, pulling a pillow over his head. "Your shoulder could've waited until morning," he grumbled into it.  
After giving the drowsy Sam a one-armed hug, I crawled into my bed, the rollout from the couch.  
Tucked inside the covers, I heard Dean quietly call out, "Night," before his snoring could be heard.  
Smiling to myself, I pulled the sheets tighter around me.  
Those idiots are my brothers.  
And I loved them, especially when they relocated my shoulder and made me promises that they would actually keep.


	7. Chapter 7

Bite to Remember

Warnings: Mentions of blood, threat of rape, violence, swearing, fighting

Hana's POV

I coughed and rubbed my arms against the cold. My combat boots scraped the chilly pavement. Shivering, I pulled Dean's flannel tighter around me. I could worry about the blood stains later. Once I'm safe. Away from that place.  
And just like that, he ran through my mind. Dean. He must be worried sick.  
Where's my damn phone?  
I searched my pockets, but they must've taken it, because it wasn't there. A string of colorful words flowed out of my mouth freely.  
Trembling more violently, I scanned the horizon. But all I saw was the puffs of smoke passing from my lips and… What the hell?  
I squinted, just making out an old-looking box about 30 feet away. Cautiously, I crept forward. As I approached the box, I turned my nerves on to high alert. My fingers slowly curled around my mini flashlight from my belt and clicked it on.  
I was utterly shocked.  
It looked like an old-fashioned pay phone. Two sides of it were cracked and filthy, and the third was completely shattered. I hesitated.  
Does this thing even work anymore?  
Finally, I decided that it wouldn't hurt to try. Reaching down, I pulled my change from the coin purse in my left combat boot. My hands had a hard time gripping them. The tips of my fingers were turning blue.  
Rubbing the sleeve of the flannel under my nose (and realizing that it was completely frozen), I slipped the quarters into the slot. Sending a silent prayer to whatever divine being was up there, I shakily put in the number and held the phone up to my frigid ear.  
There was a moment of static over the phone until the first monotonous beep came through the phone. I let out a breath that I didn't realize I was holding. As I waited for Dean to pick up the phone, I eyed up the cobwebs and broken glass that coated the floor. A chill ran the length of my spine, and I couldn't tell if it was the temperature or the creepy phone booth.  
"Hello?"  
I jumped at the word. My brain frantically told me to run and hide, but I planted my feet on the ground.  
And then I realized. It wasn't from outside. It was from the phone.  
Tears of relief slipped down my cheeks, freezing there.  
The voice came through the phone again, a bit less patient. "Hello? Who is this?"  
Swallowing thickly, I choked out a single word. A word that sounded like heaven, nirvana. "Dean."  
The response was immediate. "Hana? Hana, are you okay? Where are you?"  
I sobbed into the phone, relief coursing through me. "I d-don't know. I got out. I'm on this c-creepy road using a p-pay phone."  
The faint sound of Dean's keys jingling and him telling Sam to track the call came through. "Hang tight, princess. We're coming. Are you hurt?"  
Finally getting my breathing under control, I stuttered out the answer. "Not t-too bad. Please h-hurry. It's too f-fucking c-c-cold."  
A rumble came through the phone, and it took me a second to place where I'd heard it before. The Impala. "Alright, baby girl, we're coming. We'll be there as soon as you can. How are you hurt? Who took you? Where-"  
I laughed slightly, then winced as it caused my teeth to clink together. "O-one question at a t-t-t-time. It-it's just some bruises and-d shallow c-cuts. They didn't try to f-feed on m-me. Th-they had a l-lot of p-people. It was t-t-terrible." I'd started crying again as the images flashed back into my head.  
Dean must've heard me, because the tone of his voice changed. "Okay, angel. It's okay. It'll be over soon. We'll be there in about 10 minutes. You'll be fine, then we can go and save the others. Okay?"  
I made a sound of acknowledgement, but I was sobbing too hard to form proper words. A snapping twig made me whirl and draw in a breath.  
"Hana? Hana, what was that? What's wrong?"  
My blood ran cold. "Th-that wasn't you?"  
"Hana, go hide right-"  
A force slammed into me from the side of the shattered glass. The wind was knocked out of my body as we smashed through the barely-intact window on the other side.  
I grit my teeth to keep from crying out as a weight settled on my chest. Horror struck me as I took in the figure's face. It was one of the vampires. The one that had brought me in.  
My head snapped to the side as he hit me across the face. I groaned in pain as the side of my face smacked against the ground.  
"You bitch. You worthless slut!" he spit, hitting me over and over again. Blood was pooling in my mouth and pain blossoming all over my upper body. "I was going to spare you. Give you a sweeter deal. Now?" He smirked, and his teeth gleamed in the moonlight. "I can't wait to suck you dry."  
Panic flooded through me. My hand grappled with a shard of glass that was tangled in the grass. Getting a grip on it just as he lunged forward, I swung my arm as fast and as hard as I could in my frozen state.  
The sharp edge lodged in the back of his neck. An angry roar tore out of his mouth as he tumbled onto the ground beside me, yanking the shard out of his skin.  
I scrambled to get up, but he grabbed my wrist and tugged me downward. I swore as the palm of my hand sliced on a lying piece of glass.  
Damn karma.  
I was slammed into the ground and teeth tore at my neck. A scream sounded from my parted lips.  
"Shut up," the vamp growled, clamped his hand firmly over my mouth. I could feel the blood seeping out of me, along with all of my strength. I drifted in and out of consciousness a few times.  
To my shock, he pulled away, wiping his mouth. "I'm full," he grumbled, like he'd wanted to see the light die in my eyes. Then he smirked. "You sure are sexy for a human."  
His hands were creeping up my thighs. My eyes shot open.  
No way in hell was I getting raped.  
Gathering all of my remaining energy, I kneed him in the side. He grunted and buckled, falling forward onto me. "You bitch!" he snarled again, snatching a handful of my hair and yanking me down so he could bite into my neck again.  
I weakly tried to fight him off, but it was no use. My energy was drained.  
The screech of tires on the pavement gave me the energy to open my eyes. The vamp's eyes widened in panic, but it was too late. An infuriated Dean beheaded him in one graceful swoop.  
The head dropped beside me and the decapitated body fell on me. Sam quickly moved forward to haul the body off me. Dean dropped to his knees and gathered me in his arms. "Hey, princess," he soothed softly, stroking my hair and looking me over.  
As Dean maneuvered me into the front seat of the Impala, Sam was examining the body. I couldn't look without the bile rising in my throat.  
Only when the Impala roared down the highway, away from that damned phone booth, did I feel safe. Dean reached over and pressed a rag to my neck.  
"I've got you, baby. I've got you."  
I cuddled into his side and sighed at the warmth.  
Finally.  
"Dean?"  
"Yeah, princess?"  
"I need to go to the bathroom."  
He chuckled and rubbed his hand up and down my back. I put my head on his shoulder, barely conscious enough to feel him kiss the crown of my head before slipping into darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Red Heads Have Souls Too

Warnings: Swearing, intense making out, mentions of sex, tiny bit of self hate image…?

Hana's POV

I was holding a lock of hair in my palm when the rough knocking on the door made me startle. "Are you almost done in there?" Dean's deep voice came through, sounding impatient.

I winced at my reflection. Yes, but I think I would rather die than go on this stupid case, I thought to myself. "One more minute," I yelled back, despite the eye roll.

Oh my God, I am never going to hear the end of this.

Sighing, I grabbed the gray contact lenses and put them in, one after the other. "I hate this so much," I muttered to myself, cringing at my newly dyed bright orange haired reflection.

Just because I'd hunted this thing before did not mean that I had to wear a fucking disguise.

"Never mind. I'm not doing it!" I decided, going to take out the contact lense in my right eye.

I heard a growl from the other side of the door and a "Like hell you aren't" before the door flew open.

Panicking at the prospect of Dean seeing me like this, I quickly ducked into the bathtub and snapped the curtain shut. "Hana, c'mon! You can't look that bad!" he complained, trying to tug the curtain away. "You're being ridiculous, I want you to be safe during this hunt! Get out of there."

Even though he couldn't see me, I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut as the red hair flew into my face.

I didn't realize how angry Dean was getting until he ripped the shower curtain straight from the rod. A tiny squeaking sound left me as Dean reached down, grabbed me, and threw me over his shoulder. "Dean, let me down! I don't want to!"

"I don't care what you want to do! You are coming on this fucking hunt whether you want to or not!" he spat back in response. "You made me go into the store to get that hair dye alone and you are going to wear it!" I bristled as he talked to me like I was a three year old.

Hitting his back, I shouted, "Dean, you asshole, put me down!" Fed up already with his cocky grin, I reeled my foot back and kicked. It definitely hit something, because Dean groaned. I thought that I had lucked out by hitting him where the sun didn't shine, and used the opportunity to try and squirm away.

Unfortunately, God wasn't on my side. A hand lightly smacking my thigh made me yelp. "Nice try, princess. Now behave, would ya? We need to get on this hunt and you're holding us back."

Still frustrated that my acts of defiance were having no effect on him, I fought him the entire time he was putting me down on the bed and pulling my shoes on roughly, since I had outright refused to do it. I smirked in triumph as he swore when my foot connected with his jaw. "Cut it out!" he growled, grabbing my ankles hard enough to chase the smile off of my face and make me yelp. "You're acting like a 3 year old. The monster doesn't fucking care that your hair looks "crappy". Now, sit still before I make you!"

I sat in silence, staring down at my hands clasped in my lap, as Dean visibly cooled down, face returning to its normal color and tension falling from his shoulders. As he finished, he grinned softly up at me. "There. That wasn't so painful, now, was it?" I couldn't help but squirm a bit uncomfortably as he examined my new look.

Red really didn't go with my complexion, apparently.

But Dean's fingers gently tracing my jawline and angling my head upwards caught my attention. "Finally, my girl has some fiery hair to match that temper of hers," he murmured before leaning in and brushing his lips tentatively across mine.

All thoughts about the hunt gone, I ran a hand through his hair to tug him closer, and he fell on me, the kiss becoming more and more desperate as time passed. His rough hand was slipping past the hem of my shirt and along my skin when a knock broke us apart.

"Knowing how long the two of you have been alone, you're probably naked. So, put some clothes on and get going. That thing is still out there." It was Sam, of course, most likely coming over from his separate room to check if we were living anymore. From the sounds that were coming from our room last night, I don't blame him for not storming in this morning.

Dean groaned and leaned his forehead against my collarbone. "C'mon, Sammy, ten more minutes, man. We'll be quick," he pleaded, already going back to kissing along my neck before Sam could get a word out in protest.

But, Sam wasn't budging. Just like always. "Dean, now! Ten minutes could be the difference between life or death. I'll be in the car." The sound of Sam's footsteps heading away only made Dean increase his efforts on the untouched skin of my neck.

As much as I was enjoying the moment, Sam was right, and me and Dean got to do this all of the time. Sighing, I begrudgingly pushed his face away. "You know as well as I do that Sam is right. C'mon." I teasingly shoved his shoulder to give me just enough room to get out from under him.

Righting my hair, I gestured for the dumbfounded man to follow me as I walked out the door, swinging my hips. He was right on my heels in an instant. "You know, I haven't had sex with a red head in a while," Dean stated with a shit-eating grin.

Letting a scoff slide from between my lips, I scuffed the back of his head. "Maybe later. Get in the car, Winchester."

His arm wrapped around my waist. "Yes, ma'am." With a final wink, he ducked into his beloved car.

Maybe red hair isn't too bad.


	9. Chapter 9

Slipping Through My Fingers

Warnings: Violence/gore, swearing, anger, angsty

Hana's POV

"It's okay. You're okay. Just-ah, fuck-just breathe," I ground out through clenched teeth.  
Yeah, right. I'm totally okay. Just peachy, I mentally snapped back to myself as more blood gushed past my fingertips. Letting out a strangled sound, I put a hand to the wall and sunk to my knees.  
Damn rugaru. Dean told me I shouldn't go after it alone. Instead of taking sound advice, I had stupidly gone after the thing myself, pride hurt but determined to prove Dean wrong.  
Fat lot of good that did.  
"C'mon, get up," I grunted to myself, pushing myself to my feet with the support of the wall. Okay, step one accomplished. I'm golden right now.  
I should probably get back to my car. Well, my stolen car. Not that it mattered. The chances of me making it to the motel room without passing out from the pain were so small that I was considering not even trying.  
But I knew that Dean would come into the afterlife and drag my ass back here solely to lecture me non-stop if I even thought about leaving him. So, I forced my legs to carry me to the driver's side door.  
I immediately slumped against the sturdy car, breathing coming out in painful panting and seeming to scrape along the sensitive walls of my lungs.  
After a moment of regaining my composure, I grabbed the door handle and yanked. Adrenaline sinking, I barely kept myself from flying backwards into the mud. "For fuck's sake, if you're gonna kill me, do it already!" I shouted at the sky, anger needing to be directed at somebody. Of course, just like always, there was no reply.  
Huffing, I felt my legs give out and angled myself so that I fell into the driver's seat. A weak groan left my lips as the sudden action jolted my wound and a gush of blood soaked the front of my jeans.  
As my vision swam, a dreadful realization came to me. I'm never gonna make it all the way to the motel. It's too far, and I'm bleeding out way too fast.  
Dean's voice echoed in my head, and even though I knew I was probably just hallucinating, it still gave me hope. "C'mon, sweetheart. You can do it."  
Setting my jaw, I pulled the door closed and jammed the keys into the ignition. "You're gonna drive your ass back to the motel and-shit, ah-you're gonna tell Dean that you love him and you're gonna-g-gonna get all fixed up. Dean and Sammy will fix you up. You've had worse."  
I was so out of it that I barely even recognized that it was me talking. The deep gash in my side dulled to a barely-there ache.  
I vaguely remembered seeing a sign that directed me to a hospital. And then headlights coming straight for me, and I swerved wildly, spinning the car.  
And then there was darkness. Cold and pressing and unwelcoming.

I gasped into consciousness. I was barely aware that I was even awake when a voice said softly, "Hiya, sweetheart."  
And, naturally, I punched the unknown man in the nose. Rapid blinking seemed the only cure for the sudden panic I had undergone. The image of Dean, holding his nose gingerly and then pulling his hand away from his face to check it for blood, slowly came into focus.  
Completely dumbfounded for what to say, I blurted, "Hey, Dean."  
His head snapped up and a small smirk fell on his lips, looking a bit forced. "You just punched me in the face and all you say is, 'Hey'?"  
Smiling at his playfulness, I ran a hand through his hair. "You're not getting anything else from me. Now, where's the-son of a bitch!" I had attempted to get up and discovered my entire midsection to be bandaged and in serious pain.  
Dean's hands were everywhere, slowly helping me to lay back against the pillows. "Woah, take it easy, princess. You're gonna reopen your wound. Had a pretty nasty gash." As he gently looked me over, everything rushed back to me.  
Confused about the flashes of the previous night in my head, I murmured, "What happened?"  
Dean's emerald eyes locked on mine, and I was suddenly concerned for the darker than normal circles under his eyes. "Why don't you tell me? You were supposed to wait for backup!" He was getting worked up, now, like he's been bottling it up for a long time. "And then he hurt you, and you still tried to get behind the wheel. What the hell were you thinking? You should've just waited!"  
I closed my eyes against his lecturing. Letting my mind travel to give him an acceptable answer, I spouted out the first thing that came to mind. "There was a hospital nearby and there was a lot of blood and I didn't think that I would make it until you and Sam got there!"  
Dean paused in his pacing before sighing and dropping his head to his chest. "You scared the hell outta me, darling. You wrecked that car. Bad. I thought you were…" he trailed off, and he really didn't have to finish his sentence. He thought I was dead.  
I flashed a comforting grin up at him, then reached out to grab his hand. He looked up from the floor, our eyes locking. "You really think you're gonna get rid of me that easy?" I teased.  
Before I could even register what was happening, Dean was knelt beside the bed, my face in his rough hands and tears trickling down his cheeks. "Yeah, I do. And that's what terrifies me," he choked out.  
Shocked at his confession, I gently pulled him into the bed beside me and stroked his hair as he sobbed into my collarbone. "I love you too much to leave you, Dean."


	10. Chapter 10

Jail 'Em

Warnings: Swearing, making out, excessive drinking and being drunk, getting arrested, getting caught making out, Hana is shirtless for like .005 seconds

Hana's POV

I sighed and leaned against the cold, stone wall. A sigh tumbled out of my mouth as Dean turned his head to look over at me from the next cell over.  
"Sorry…" he murmured for the umpteenth time. I rolled my eyes and faced away from him stubbornly. It was all his fault. If he'd just been more even-tempered, we would never have gotten jailed.

Two hours earlier  
We were at the bar. It wasn't anything new, but I was starting to get tired of the same old watered down drinks and peanut shells under every step.  
Nevertheless, we came out to have fun. Sam was being a complete bum, sitting in the corner and doing research on his laptop. Me and Dean? We were getting drunk. Really drunk.  
I tossed back the fifth shot and winced at the sharp taste. Dean smirked as he caught the look on my face.  
"I'm winning," he taunted, his voice slurring already. I rolled my eyes.  
"Slow and steady wins the race. Hey, bartender, another shot!"  
The man came over and refilled my glass, then Dean's. As that one hit the back of my throat, Dean's lips brushed my ear. "Why don't we get outta here? Sam isn't looking and Baby is wide open."  
I was reluctant, but his fingers starting a torturous climb up my leg hurried along my indecision.  
"Let's get outta here," I whispered. I grabbed the lapel of his jacket and pulled him along. He all but threw his cash on the countertop. The wad was probably too much, but Dean didn't seem to care.  
We were making out in the backseat of the Impala when a rap came at the window. We both jumped, a bit slowed by the alcohol, to see an officer. Dean swore under his breath and passed me my shirt back to me.  
He stumbled out of the car. "Can I help you, officer?"  
The man rose his eyebrows and looked pointedly at me. And, being drunk, Dean got the wrong message. His chest puffed out.  
"You looking at my girl when she's shirtless?"  
A blush rose on my cheeks, but it was stopped short by the officer's smartass comment. "Well, if you weren't going at it in the middle of a parking lot, then I wouldn't have to."  
I heard a muffled "oof!", and then the man stumbled backwards. I gaped. Dean had just punched him.

Long story short, the guy didn't come alone, and him and his buddies decided that Dean's offence was worth a night in jail.  
And I was his "partner in crime".  
It wasn't the first time that I'd been in a cell, but this place was a dump, and it was all Dean's fault.  
He got up from his "bed" and crossed over to my cell. I avoided his eyes and hugged the wall.  
"C'mon. C'mere. I'll kiss you again… Between the bars."  
I snorted. "Dude, really?"  
He frowned, and I could easily tell that he was still heavily drunk. "What?"  
"No! Just… No! I'm in a cell for the rest of the night because of you!"  
He sighed. "Sam was the one that refused to bail us out."  
That was true. Sam probably figured that we were being dumb. And he wasn't completely wrong.  
I glared at Dean, and he simply smirked apologetically. We locked eyes for a moment before I scoffed.  
"Fine."  
I crossed over to him and pecked his lips through the bars. The smug smirk didn't leave his face.  
"I'm sorry," he muttered against my lips.  
I smiled softly. Drunken bastard… "I know."


	11. Chapter 11

One Little Secret

Warnings: Swearing, secrets, pregnancy

Hana's POV

I paced one way, then spun on my heel and went the other way. Restlessness. It happens to the best of us.

I glanced down at my stomach, not wanting to notice the slight bulge there. Dean hadn't seen it yet, but it's only a matter of time. I bit my lip nervously. Maybe I should've hid that pregnancy test in the garbage better.

I didn't hear the flutter of wings. "Hello, Hana."

"Holy shit!" I yelped, nearly falling over backwards. Castiel reached out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me upright. "Whiplash much," I muttered, snatching my wrist back and rubbing it ruefully.

Castiel got right to the point (he is an angel after all; they don't often beat around the bush). "I apologize for startling you. Do you know where Adrian is?"

I sighed, contemplating telling him my big secret. It was weighing on me, that's for damn sure, but I couldn't tell anyone I knew. They would tell Dean, and then my life would become a living hell.

Cas tilted his head to the side thoughtfully. "Something's troubling you."

I exhaled. "Can you keep a secret?"

He furrowed his eyebrows, and I almost wished that I hadn't asked. "Yes. Though if I am put under any sort of pressure or am asked directly about the matter, I refuse to bear false witness. Why?"

I sat on the couch, biting the inside of my cheek this time. "Are you sure you're going to be able to keep this secret? I mean, Cas, no offense, but you've willingly spilled the beans so many times."

He frowned deeper and took the spot next to me, resting his forearms on his knees. "Yes. I will keep it to the best of my ability. Go on."

I looked at the floor. My voice came out as a whisper. "I'm pregnant. It's- it's Dean's."

I glanced up into Cas's confused eyes. "I don't understand. Shouldn't this be glorious news? A healthy child to be born and-"

I cut him off, standing sharply and slightly raising my voice. "Cas, what will we do with a baby? We aren't about to give up the hunting lifestyle, and Dean will refuse to raise the baby in it, so what the hell should I do? I can't abandon it, I can't have an abortion. They're both cruel ideals. I just… I'm running out of options, okay?"

I crossed my arms over my chest, and tears collected in my eyes. Castiel seemed uncomfortable, and for a moment, I thought he was going to just walk out. But then he stood and pulled me into a hug, rubbing circles on my back and speaking comforting words into my hair. Although shocked, I quickly hugged him back, silently crying into his trench coat.

Pulling away, I suddenly realized something. If I were to have this baby and then die, who would care for it then?

I made the decision right then and there.

"Cas, will you be this baby's godfather?"

His eyes widened, and then a rare occurance happened. He smiled. "I'd be honored."


	12. Chapter 12

On Date Night?!

Warnings: Kinda possessive Dean, swearing, heated kissing, argument

Hana's POV

A heaviness set in my heart. I glanced at the closed bunker door with a growing disappointment. Dean said he'd be home 3 hours ago from the hunt he was on with Sam. He promised that we would watch a movie and cuddle on the couch and then go to sleep. But how could he keep the promise when he wasn't even here?

I angrily wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes and grabbed the bowl of cold popcorn, throwing a few pieces in my mouth. It even tasted like loneliness.

Huffing, I got to my feet and furiously tugged on my coat. Not even looking into a mirror, I marched straight to the garage. Settling on an older, bright red car, I started the engine and drove.

I didn't really know where I was going until I pulled up to a pale blue house. A house I hadn't been to since forever.

Nathan's house.

This is where I had my first kiss.

Breathing slightly, I got out of the car and flexed my sore hands. I had undoubtedly been white-knuckling the steering wheel.

And then I was in front of the door. I reached out and tapped the door lightly a few times. After a few moments, the door opened. A familiar and somewhat aged face poked through the crack. He grinned.

"Hana! It's been forever!"

"Hey, Nate," I murmured quietly, a smile starting to pick up the corners of my mouth. To my shock, he moved forward and gathered me into his arms.

I found myself tearing up slightly as the memories flew back into my head. I shook myself and hugged him back, envious of my past self.

"What was that for?" I teased as he pulled back.

His smile was warm and inviting, and I felt instantly like I had come home, in a sense. "You looked like you needed it. C'mon in, you."

Our hands joined together and he tugged me in.

We talked for a few hours about what we had been doing (me excluding hunting, of course) while we were away. Well, I was away. Nate hadn't gone anywhere.

Feeling a hell of a lot better, I drove home after handing Nate my number.

As I pulled into the garage, I felt relieved, angered, and nervous all at once. The Impala was there, right in the middle. I flinched as I realized how empty the spot looked without this car in it.

I parked and made it to the library before I was ambushed. Dean was glaring daggers at me from where he leaned against a bookshelf. He pushed himself off and stalked furiously towards me. "Where the hell have you been?! I was worried you'd been snatched by some creep!" he shouted.

My own anger rose, and I threw his rage right back in his face. "I was visiting a friend, since you obviously didn't care enough to tell me that you were gonna be three hours late!"

Dean's expression went from furious, to taken aback, to deadly in an instant. "We don't have any friends. You were hooking up with someone, weren't you?"

Hurt panged in my chest, but I kept up my tough exterior as best as I could. "Dean, you seriously think that I would run off and have sexy time with someone else when I love you?! And I have one friend! He's a friend from high school!"

My wrist was in his hand in an instant. His grip was vice-like. "He?" Dean growled dangerously.

I tried to tug my wrist back, but he yanked me back to my spot. I'm sure he would leave a bruise in his uncontrolled rage, but I didn't care. I was too angry myself.

"Yes!"

"Are you fucking kidding me?!"

He paced the room, and I had to stop myself from massaging my throbbing wrist. Before I could get a word in sideways, his fist came into contact with the wall. Hard. He swore loudly and ripped the lamp right off the table. It crashed to the floor.

My eyes widened. Fuck.

Dean turned back to me, and I took a cautious step backwards as he stalked towards me. His hands pushed me against the wall. He leaned close. "Do they know we're together?"

A shiver ran down my spine at the growl. "Y-yeah."

I mentally cursed myself for stuttering. But my mind was wiped of all thoughts as he pressed his lips to mine.

"I thought you were mad at me," I muttered against his lips. He groaned and picked me up, swinging my legs around his waist.

"I am. Let me show you how angry I am," he said lowly before he started to press hot kisses to my neck.


	13. Chapter 13

Bewere of Bad Decisions

Warnings: Violence, swearing, making out, non con kissing, character death, implied sexy times, Hana is bound twice, plans of doing naughty things to Hana without her consent, she "borrows" something and it's unclear if it's ever returned

Hana's POV

"You aren't coming with and that is final!"  
It was another one of those battles. Let me tell you, I am sick and fucking tired of dealing with Dean's alleged overprotectiveness. The whole 'it's far too dangerous and you mean too much to me for me to let you get hurt' speech was resurfacing once again. Well, guess what, Winchester? You can take your lecture and shove it up your tight ass. "I can take care of myself, Dean! You never have to worry about me, so why the hell now?!" Even in putting on the best façade ever known to man, I knew that I myself was well aware of the exact reason Dean did this.  
It was never on simple salt and burns, or a single rogue vamp. As soon as they suspected something on a larger scale, though, BANG I'm locked in the motel room bathroom without a window or anything.  
But it wasn't going to happen this time. Not if I could help it. "Hana, you know why! It's too dangerous, and-"  
I cut him off, this time with a certain amount of venom in my voice. "And you can't lose me, too. Yeah, yeah, I know." I regretted the words immediately as Dean's eyes flashed with hurt. It was a sensitive area and I knew it, yet I had still used it against him.  
Shock barely registered in my system as his eyes turned dark and, all at once, his mouth was on mine, hand tangled deep in my hair. I couldn't help but melt into him, arms encircling his neck, case long forgotten. Before I knew it, my back was hitting the mattress, Dean in between my legs, hands running roughly up and down my sides. I felt like I was on fire everywhere he touched me with his calloused, large hands.  
Panting for air, he broke away, resting his forehead against mine as he fought to regain his breath. "Don't talk to me like that, little girl," he growled, still not opening his eyes. "I should punish you for that." I pathetically attempted to squeeze my legs together with a whimper.  
My eyes popped open, however, when a metal brace clicked shut around my wrist. I hadn't even noticed that it was above my head, if I was being completely honest. I looked up at Dean incredulously as he smirked down at me and rolled onto his feet. "But, maybe later. I've got a werewolf pack to take care of."  
Tugging hopelessly against the handcuff that now chained me to the bed, I made a loud sound of frustration. "Go fuck yourself, Winchester! You're an ass, you know that? Good luck scoring sex later, you pig," I snarled, only getting more and more irritated as the stupid handcuff wouldn't seem to budge. Dean simply laughed in response.  
Swinging his keys around his index finger, he winked one more time before opening the door. "See you later, princess. Good luck with those cuffs," he retaliated smoothly before snapping the door closed, leaving me alone and frustratingly bothered, cuffed to the bedpost.  
After trying several different things, including attempting at snapping off the edge of the bedpost, I finally grabbed a bobby pin from my hair, folded it outward, and set to work. It was a bit cliché, but I knew from personal experience that it worked. Just like it did all but .2 seconds later. I rubbed my sore wrist along the red and pink marks of struggling.  
Winchesters can be such assholes.  
Throwing my last dwindling thoughts away, I jogged out to the parking lot, duffel with all of my supplies slung over my shoulder. To my dread, I quickly discovered my predicament. They'd taken the Impala, and the abandoned house where the werewolves were hiding out was a good 10 miles from here, according to my GPS.  
Swearing, I resigned myself to the lowliest kind of thievery ever: hotwiring a car. Sure, I always returned it the next morning, but it took an idiot to think that hotwiring a car did anything good for it. I felt guilty, but I knew that this case needed me. The boys needed me. I hadn't really noticed it, but they'd been gone for quite a while during my conquest for freedom.  
Panic now starting to fuel my movements, I successfully (albeit a bit joltingly) hotwired an old pick up truck in the corner of the lot.  
Hoisting myself up into the driver's side, I smashed my foot down on the gas pedal and drove until I got there. I was so out of it that I probably went through multiple red lights. Oh, well. It wasn't my plates they got pictures of on the traffic cams.  
Finally, after what seemed like forever of white-knuckled driving, I pulled up to the rickety house that the werewolves had taken refuge in. I whipped open the car door and almost stumbled because I wasn't used to being so high off of the ground.  
The surroundings made a chill run the length of my spine. It was dark, the moon not quite risen yet. Cold clung to the outer layer of my jacket, pressing in insistently. The metal of the gun that I was clutching as I walked into the real life horror set comforted me in some strange way.  
Forcing the air in and out of my lungs, I crept stealthily across the lawn, past Dean's beloved car, and circled around the back of the house. There was still nothing but dead grass. Maybe this was all a trick or something, I thought dejectedly to myself. The boys love playing tricks on me, especially Dean.  
I let my guard lower with a sigh, which turned out to be my greatest mistake yet as a blunt force hit me in the back of the head and I crumpled to the ground.

When I first woke up, I wasn't even really aware that I had, it was so dark. But the steady pressure against my wrists made me remember all that had happened. With a stream of colorful words leaving my mouth, I tugged harder against the binds, only succeeding in further bruising my wrists.  
A sick laugh made me stop in my tracks. I silently cursed at myself. If I hadn't been so caught up in freeing my wrists, I easily would've known that I wasn't alone. Squinting into the darkness didn't do very much to clear up what I was seeing, and it was giving me a headache, so I relaxed. The cool voice met my ear not even a second later. "Well, looks like we've got ourselves a pretty little hunter. A stupid one-" I winced. He wasn't wrong… "-but at least she's pretty." A shadow moved over to me and a hand clasped itself around my face. I struggled with a snarl as the reek of blood and alcohol and some nasty cologne invaded my nostrils. "But apparently feisty. Can't say I like your type too much. They always have a tendency to violently murder my family. Do you have any inkling why?" Disgust ran through me as his breath brushed across my face. Gathering up my courage, I deftly spat at the werewolf's face.  
I didn't regret it immediately. It was kind of gradual as his hand fell unhurriedly from my face, fingernails dragging lightly along the soft skin there. My eyes slowly widened with the realization of what I had just done. Before I could get the apology out of my mouth, my head whipped to the side from the impact of the werewolf's fist on my cheekbone. I swore under my breath as a chorus of laughter filled the room. A pit of dread formed in my stomach. How many of them are there? What felt like claws now grabbed at the sides of my face and his breathing was more rapid now. A trill of fear filled me. He was furious. "You try that one more time, and I'm gonna rip your heart out of your fucking chest and shove it down your throat. Got it?" However reluctant I was to this whole thing, I knew when my defiance was useless. Chest heaving and tiny whimpers of pain forcing themselves up my throat, I nodded my head.  
The werewolf savagely threw my chin away, and I cringed as the movement strained my neck muscles. His footfalls heading away made me sigh in relief, and for the first time since I woke up, I had a moment to think through everything that was happening. Where are the boys? Was I still in that run down old house, or had they taken me somewhere else? Why were they even keeping me alive? How many of them were there? Were they keeping prisoners, now?  
But the question that popped out of my mouth was even more bold than the others, and the steadiness in my tone. "Why do you have the lights off? Obviously, I don't scare you. So, why can't I see you?" It was almost challenging. I couldn't believe that I wasn't being hit or sworn at or something like that.  
A light was flicked on suddenly, making my eyes shrink. Everything had turned blurry because my eyes were struggling to get everything into focus. A group, still too blurred to make out properly, was advancing on me. As they finally came into focus, I stiffened. Blood was soaking the front of their clothes, along with the area around their mouths and their sharp teeth.  
As a hunter, very few things can scare me. But holy hell, that was most definitely one of them. Smirks flitted onto their faces. They were smug about this whole situation, I realized with a shudder. "I told you that we didn't want to scare you." There were five or six of them. I couldn't quite tell because of how my vision still had a bout of dizziness usually just as I finished counting them. "You're probably wondering why we haven't hurt you yet, hmm?" They were getting uncomfortably close, making me squirm in my chair.  
Deciding to not let fear get the better of me, I bit back, "Yeah, the thought has crossed my mind a couple of times." I had no idea where the sudden courage had come from, but I had mixed feelings about it. Sure, it showed my attitude, but I really didn't think it was the time or place to do so.  
Where are Sam and Dean, for God's sake?!  
Who I assumed the first werewolf I had spoken to was right in front of me, hands clasped on the arms of the chair and looming over me. "You hunters are such an arrogant breed." A muscle in my neck twitched as some of the blood from the werewolf's glistening teeth dripped down to stain my pant leg. Oh, I am in such deep shit right now. "I can smell the fear on you, so you can stop putting on your brave face," he growled lowly, dark amusement glinting in his eye. "Did you really think that we brought you all the way over here just to feed on you? We would've done that by now." My ears immediately perked up. Intentional or unintentional, he was clearing up one of my major questions. Not that I pointed it out to him. He didn't look stupid, but you really never know. "Look around. What do you notice about all of us?"  
Even in my semi-concussed stupor, I could definitely draw one conclusion worth noting. "You're all werewolves," I stated flatly. I was getting a bit impatient with all of the rhetorical questions and answers I was apparently supposed to pull out of thin air. Maybe it had something to do with the massive headache that was now quickly increasing in pain. Damn lights. They had to be the cause of it.  
The monster in front of me laughed, and his friends behind him instantly joined in. "Well, yes. But no. We're all males." He licked his lips menacingly. "Our mates were murdered by hunters like you. So, you're the one here to replace them. After we turn you, of course." My eyes widened. Oh hell no.  
"When hell freezes over," I spat, yanking on the ropes around my wrists. I've gotta get out of here.  
The leader of them leaned over me again. "You don't have a choice in the matter." His jaws opened and he moved for my neck. I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the pain and complete loss of freedom with a pit of dread in my stomach.  
Except the bite never came.  
Instead, the sound of a door banging open from upstairs made the werewolf pause in his tracks. He slowly rose to his full height again. His eyes darting towards the ceiling, teeth bared. A weak smile set on my face as I registered that they didn't know who it was. That's almost an 80% guarantee that Sam and Dean had made their grand entrance. The chuckle that left my lips made all of the werewolves whip around to face me. "You guys are so dead," I laughed. The alpha werewolf signaled for the others to head upstairs; it was a command that they followed without any objections.  
Uneasiness fell on me in short order as the leader once again turned towards me with a perverted grin. The confident smirk that had been so proudly displayed on my lips was knocked from its power as his fist whacked into my gut, leaving me winded and in pain. "Get that smirk off of your pretty little face, sweetheart. It's not very nice." At the last word, his now loose hand connected with my cheek, snapping my head to the side. And then he was digging his nails into my cheekbones again, forcing me to look at him. "We're gonna have a lot of fun, you and I. That is, when you learn to behave yourself," he pouted with a light tsking noise. If I thought getting constantly humiliated and hurt was bad, having my lips pressed to that slime ball's almost made me physically sick. It was a hard kiss. No, it wasn't even classified as a kiss anymore. It was smashing two mouths together. I tried to yank myself away from his grasp, but he only tightened his hold. When I continued to struggle, the werewolf sealed his sharp teeth around my bottom lip and bit. Hard. I cried out against his lips, terror seizing me as I thought of what would happen if he sunk his teeth in further. I'd become what he was. A monster.  
I jumped slightly at the loud bang. The weight of the now dead werewolf slumped on top of me. My gaze jumped up just as Dean approached me, throwing the corpse off and deftly setting to freeing me from the bindings. By the time Sam entered, I was in Dean's embrace, arms latched around his shoulders and legs curled desperately around his waist as he hugged me back with just as much ferocity. "Don't you ever fucking dare do that again, princess," Dean breathed, one hand coming up to bring my head closer to his shoulder. "I thought I told you to stay at the motel room!" he sighed out. Thankfully, I think he was more in the hugging mood than the lecturing mood.  
"I know. Sorry. I was really worried…" I trailed off as Dean pulled back just enough to press his lips gently to mine.  
Sam groaned. "Seriously, you guys? You are literally making out in a room full of dead bodies." Shaking his head so that his hair fell in his face a bit, he walked out of sight, probably to look for more werewolves.  
As soon as he had rounded the corner, Dean had his mouth right next to my ear, whispering as if it really mattered that the dead werewolf could hear us. "You know, I might have to punish you for not obeying me."  
Now, this is exactly what the werewolf did wrong. No one could Dean better than Dean himself. "How about we get back to the motel room first?" I suggested quietly, throwing in a little wink at the end.  
Dean sighed against my collarbone, then carded the fingers of one hand into his hair, his other holding onto my hip to stabilize my interesting position. "Sam, we'll meet you back at the motel!" He yelled into the house, then gently kissed up and down my neck as his footsteps thundered up the stairs.  
And let me tell you, it was one hell of an evening.


	14. Chapter 14

Wake Up Make Up

A/N: Because Dean and this character aren't in a relationship, I've decided to use a different OC. Sorry, Hana!

Warnings: Swearing, implied sexy times, accusations/fighting

Tiff's POV

"Tiff? Tiff, sweetheart, time to wake up."  
Groaning, I pulled my covers over my head in protest. "Nome. It's not. It's time to sleep," I mumbled out, barely comprehendible, as my face was buried in the pillows. Hands pulled at my sides, and I fought feebly against them. Dean sighed heavily.  
Exasperated, he finally gave up when he realized that I wasn't giving away my warm and comfy abode that easy. "I'm serious. You need to get your lazy ass out of bed already. I'm bored and it's almost noon," he almost whined, hands retreating.  
My muffled grumping was the only answer he got. I had meant to say something along the lines of, "Leave me alone, unless you have something better to offer than this bed." but it came out as more, "Lea' meh 'lone, unleff 'ou 'ave somefing bettah to offah." And then I decided to just keep it at that, because I didn't trust myself with any other words without screwing them up just as bad.  
The bed dipped slightly beside me, but I didn't bother telling him to get the hell off. My hand went flying haphazardly and collided lightly and unfortunately harmlessly against what I think was Dean's bicep. He snorted at my pathetic attempt at warding him away. "Tiff, c'mon, you're being ridiculous. Get up before I make you!" It was probably supposed to be a threat, but I didn't see any reason that the very attractive Dean Winchester carrying me everywhere would be a particularly bad thing.  
Nevertheless, staying tucked in my covers is a lot more attractive than Dean at the moment. Making a disgruntled sound, I grabbed the pillow from beside me and put it over my head, hoping that he would get the message that I wouldn't get up if the Bunker were on fire.  
A huff filled the room, and the weight disappeared from the end of the bed. My body sagged into the mattress in relief. "Whatever," he scoffed, and I probably should've paid more attention to the smirk creeping into his tone, but I was way too tired. "I guess hard way it is."  
A whoosh of air hit my bare legs as they were exposed to the unforgiving cold. It had only just registered in my mind that he had ripped the covers off of me-the bastard-when the sound of them dropping to the floor hit my ears. Turning my head to chastise him for taking away my beautiful escape, I blinked away the blurriness in my vision. The words died in my throat as I realized that he had just stopped. I couldn't quite make out his face, but I knew that the smirk wasn't there anymore.  
"What?!" I finally snapped when Dean's silhouette hadn't moved for a while and he hadn't said anything. Was five minutes a new record for him? Honestly, I would be surprised if it weren't. And that was the exact moment I realized why he hadn't said a single word.  
Last night, it was hot and stuffy as hell in my bedroom, but I really liked the feel of fabric on my newly shaved legs. So instead of suffering through my pants, I had-  
My face went white.  
Shit, I'm clad in only my lacy underwear and Dean Winchester is staring at me. In different circumstances, maybe, I would've made a move. But I was so goddamn embarrassed that the first words out of my mouth were kind of a strangled gasp of, "Get out!"  
He was quick to listen and obey, closing the door behind him.  
Oh, God, I can never leave my room again. That was way too damn embarrassing. Dean's going to harass me about it for the next six months at the very least.  
Resigned to never letting either of the boys see me ever again, I shoved on sweatpants and a flannel that one of the boys had outgrown. Grabbing the remote to my TV (yes, it was bought with money from hustling, so sue me), I turned on Netflix, scrolling through all of the shows with bored eyes. Seriously, would it kill them to put a good show on here every once in a while?  
As I rewatched Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt for the umpteenth time, all I could think about was how much I wanted ice cream. The blush rose on my cheeks again as I remembered the last time I had watched the series. It had been with Dean, actually. In the black hole between a wendigo case and demon sighting, I had pulled him into my room, demanding that he never look away from the television. I can still remember his exact expression, and his muscular arm slowly encircling my waist and pulling me into his side, and his scent. God, his scent.  
Okay, I am going to need that ice cream to cool me down.  
Sighing, I paused the show and stood, stretching my arms above my head. As I caught my own eyes in the mirror, I snorted. I remind myself of a cat. Sleep, eat, laze around, sleep some more, stretch like you're about to do a marathon, and then eat some more.  
Please, the only marathon I'm going to be doing is a movie marathon.  
I was mulling over the movies on Netflix and trying to arrange a schedule in my head when I froze in the kitchen doorway.  
This is exactly why I had been on room lockdown. God, ice cream made me into such an idiot!  
Hoping that he didn't see me, I turned on my heel and started back toward my room. I didn't make it half a step before his hand was around my elbow, making me flinch. Great, now I've been caught.  
Next step: Time to move out.  
"Hey," he greeted, flashing a little smile, and I knew that it was coming. That taunting, the jokes, the innuendos. The rest of my life is going to be a living hell. I think I should skip straight to moving out of the country. France sounds awesome. I've always wanted to go. But my police record would be a big no-no. His gravelly voice jolted me out of my thoughts. "I'm... um... I'm sorry about earlier. I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Is he... Is he blushing? No, he couldn't be.  
Because he's Dean freaking Winchester and he has no reason to be bashful. He's been in more girl's pants than I had, which was concerning since he was a dude and I was a chick. In two completely different ways, but still.  
I forced a smile that probably looked a little more like a grimace onto my face. "It's okay. If I had remembered, this morning would've gone way differently," I assured, so wishing that the floor would open up and swallow me.  
Dean quirked an eyebrow, and my mind was immediately racing for what I had let slip. "'Differently' how?" he asked, his eyebrows now wiggling suggestively. I hit his arm with a laugh. God, was anything ever gonna be the same? All I could think about even in this simple interaction was that morning, and I had barely been here for thirty seconds.  
Not answering his question, I jumped into another topic, trying to distract him from making one of his idiotic (yet admittedly witty) jokes. "What're you up to?" I said, a bit too quickly to be casual, but he let it slip. Thank the Lord.  
He crossed over to the kitchen counter as he responded, and I would've run back to my room had my feet not been planted to the floor. I couldn't make my legs work. "I was working on Baby." Of course he was. Baby meant everything to him. Dean grabbed a red towel from the sink and rubbed the grease from the nooks and crannies of his rough hands. "Is that my flannel?"  
And, like the complete imbecile that I was, I looked down at it, bewildered. I knew that Dean saw it even before I heard his light laughter.  
Why do my legs fail me now?  
"I guess so," I finally murmured, playing with the hem of it nervously as Dean laughed away. "You can have it back, if you want. I don't think it fits anymore, though."  
I caught it before Dean did. Perfect opportunity for him to throw in his two cents, of course.  
Of freaking course.  
The smug smirk on his face made me want to either lock myself in my room for the rest of eternity or for a black hole to suddenly appear in my pocket. I hadn't decided yet. "Oh, I'll take it back, sweetheart. It'll be on my floor, along with the rest of your clothes." He finished it with a wink that had me stuttering even in my thoughts.  
Is he... Is he flirting with me?  
No. No way. Dean would never do that. He wants to keep it professional. Just friends, hunting buddies.  
Don't be an idiot. That's Sam, not Dean. Dean would definitely do something like this.  
So, wait. Did that mean he was flirting with me because he actually liked me, or to mess with my head? Or was it just a habit that he couldn't turn off?  
His eyes were fixed on the floor by his feet when I was finally able to shake the thoughts off. "I was... uh... just kidding. You can keep the flannel. You wear it better anyway," he chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck. "But those lace panties, sweetheart. Those would complete the look. I don't even care if you keep them on."  
Jesus holy mother of God.  
He is definitely intentionally flirting. The only question going through my mind now is 'what the hell do I do?', and it was circling through my head a million miles per hour. I'm sure that I was sporting a deer in headlights look, but my brain was too busy puzzling over that one question.  
A forced laugh met my ears, jolting me out of my trance. Dean pushed himself away from the counter, tossing the red towel over his shoulder and into the sink. "I get the message, sweetheart, don't worry. You don't have to say anything. I'm just gonna, um, go." He was out of the room before the words had even fully struck home.  
No way. Dean would never like me. I wasn't his type. But then why had he dashed out with his head down and tail between his legs like a sixth grader who had been rejected by his crush?  
I figured that there was only one person who knew Dean better than I did, and thankfully, he was right down the hall. He answered on the second knock, hair ruffled as if he had been sleeping. I instantly felt bad about waking him up, because he needs all the sleep he needs, but I couldn't undo it.  
A smile eased onto my face. "Hey, Sam. Sorry to wake you."  
The giant returned it groggily. "No problem. I wasn't sleeping very well anyway." It was only then that I really looked at him, noticing the sweat along his forehead and circles under his eyes.  
I am a terrible friend.  
"I need to talk to you," I whispered, in case Dean had decided to run in and grab something from his room or was listening. Sam furrowed his eyebrows, but beckoned me into his room nevertheless. Before the door was even fully closed, the question that had been bouncing around my head so insistently that it almost hurt flew out. "Does Dean like me?"  
Sam closed the door and leveled his eyes with mine. They lit up after a moment, and he reached forward to ruffle my hair. I immediately ducked out of the way, trying to fix my hair and failing miserably. So, I was pretty shocked when Sam spoke up. "Thank God you finally figured it out. I was seriously about to hire a cupid. I'm happy for you. Now get out, I want some sleep. Please. I'd love to help you ask him out, or whatever, but these trials are kicking my ass."  
Giving him an understanding smile, even though a million more questions were attacking my mind, I headed out. Just before the door closed fully, I heard him murmur, "See you later, small fry."  
Grin now just about splitting my face in two, I went in search of Dean. I didn't have to look far. He was in the library, holding an ice pack to his head and nursing a beer. I could tell that something was off by the set of his shoulders. He was keeping something in, again. Not that surprising, but I couldn't think of what it was this time.  
Focusing on the task at hand, I crossed the room to him with a skip in my step. "Hiya," I chirped happily.  
The only response I got was a fierce glare. My heartbeat accelerated. Why is Dean so freaking bipolar today? "Something you want to tell me?" he pressed coolly. A shiver ran the length of my spine.  
He knew. So why was he so angry about it? According to Sam, Dean liked me back. But by the look on his face, he looked like he didn't want to be on the same continent as me. My confidence shriveled. "Not now," I responded, and I hated how vulnerable I sounded in those little words.  
The chair beneath Dean toppled to the floor as he stood, getting up in my face as I flinched away. "Oh yeah? You don't want to confess fucking with my feelings, huh? Or how about using Sam for your own pleasure when he's at his lowest?! What kind of messed up fuck are you?" Dean roared as confusion swirled in my mind.  
What is he on about?  
Everything clicked into place when I thought it through a bit more. Dean must've come in to get his beer and ice pack while I was in Sam's room. He wasn't around when I went in, I know that for sure. So maybe he saw me come out? But then why had he jumped to the conclusion that I had used Sam for sex? My brain made itself useful by throwing out the memory of Sam ruffling my hair, and how the flannel was off my shoulder because of his playful behavior.  
Dean's shoulders were still shaking with rage by the time I was able to string together a response. But my planned words didn't come out of my mouth. Instead, my body lurched forward and my mouth clashed to Dean's. It was clumsy, and unexperienced, and so wonderfully candid. He was kissing back before I knew that I had just smashed my lips to the ones I'd spent so much time fantasizing about.  
I explained it to him later, as we were watching Unbreakable Kimmy Schmidt after some truly mindblowing sex. We laughed together at how blind we had been, how Dean had originally come in from the garage because he had whacked his head on Baby's hood really hard, and how Sam had called me Small Fry and kicked me out of his room because his sleep was more important than my relationship status.  
"I really hope you know that I really liked those lace underwear. And you're buying new ones for me, you lazy slug." Dean threw his head back in laughter once again at my lame insult.  
"Nah, you love me too much. Besides, you might forget if I never let you leave this room again." The blush rising to the occasion was necessary, of course.  
But the banging at the door most certainly was not. "Guys, throw some clothes on. I found a case."  
Dean groaned at his brother's voice and buried his face in my collarbone. "Seriously? C'mon, man," he whined.  
"I really love you, you know," I whispered down at him, a bit surprised that the words had popped out.  
Dean smiled back at me. "I love you, too, sweetheart. Always have, always will. But I will love you a lot more if your underwear drawer is completely made up of lace."  
That one earned him a smack, alright.


End file.
